


The Sick- Day Schedule

by SupernaturalPhoenix



Category: RWBY
Genre: Boarderline slash but more friendship, M/M, Not In Chronological Order, Sick Oobleck, eventual slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-01-29 13:14:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12631782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturalPhoenix/pseuds/SupernaturalPhoenix
Summary: Oobleck doesn't know how to take a sick day. Port teaches him.





	1. Flu

It is a well known fact at Beacon Academy that Peter likes to walk with Barty to breakfast.

On this particular day, when Peter knocks on Barty's door, there is no answer within a nanosecond. "Barty?" Peter calls. "Barty, are you in there?"

There's a small scuffling sound before the door opens slowly. Barty's head pokes out. His hair is messy; not its normal messy, but the toss- and- turn- all- night kind of messy. His eyes are dull and skin pale.

"Peter?" he wheezes.

"Barty? Whatever happened to you?" Peter asks incredulously.

"Nothing. I'm fine." then he starts coughing.

Peter wraps a steadying hand around him. Then his other hand goes straight to Barty's forehead. "Barty, you're burning up!"

"We should go to breakfast." Barty says breathily.

 

"No! Barty, you're going straight back to bed. You can barely keep your eyes open." Peter says firmly.

 

"No. I have classes." Barty protests. Peter leads him back to bed easily. Barty isn't strong enough to put up much of a fight.

 

"There you go." says Peter. "I'll go get you some breakfast and arrange covers for your lessons."

 

"Peter, you have classes too." Barty reminds.

 

"Not many. Enough to take good care of you." says Peter jollily.

"Peter." Barty sighs, playing with the corner of the blanket.

"Barty." Peter returns. Barty coughs again. "Barty, really. Lie down and get comfortable. As I keep telling you, you can't teach like this." Peter tells him. "I'll be gone only a moment." Then he disapears out the door. The extravagant professor arranges for Barty's classes to be covered and brings him a little fruit bowl and coffee. However, he finds Barty face down on the floor next to the bed. Peter puts the tray down and rushes to his side. "Barty! Barty?" he gently shook the green- haired man by the shoulder. Barty moaned and curled against Peter's knee. "What happened?" Peter asks.

"The room was spinning." Barty moans.

"Did you try to get up?" Peter asks.

"N _o_." Barty groans.

"Alright." Peter very carefully pulls Barty onto the bed. He starts coughing again. Peter rubs his back before tucking him in. "Maybe water would be better." he fills up a glass of water from the tap in the bathroom. Then he presses it into Barty's shaky hands.

"Carefull, or you'll choke." Peter warns.

"It's not coffee." Barty grumbles.

"Coffee wouldn't be very good for you now. Besides, you have more than enough energy to fight of this sickness withot it." says Peter.

"Your voice is to loud."

"Aha. See, you're getting the hang of it now!" Peter laughs. 

"Peter, what are you talking about it?"

"Sick days. You get to lie around in bed, be waited on hand and foot and complain about everything." Peter instructs.

"Sounds awful." Barty murmurs.

Peter pats his shoulder. "You'll soon learn."

"Never done this before." Barty mumbled tiredly.

"Never done what?"

"Lie in bed all day."

"Really?"

"I stayed at home when I was to ill to go to school, yes, but I put together some rudimentery work."

Peter strokes the green hair softly.  "Where on earth did you get this from, anyway?"

Barty shrugs. "Felt bad all week. Just got worse yesterday."

"Oh, Barty. You should've said something." Peter sighs.

"I'm a grown man, Peter. A professional _huntsman_ to boot. And what kind of example would it set to the students if one of their teachers took days of for every little cold."

"Barty, it's more than a _little_ cold. _Oh_! Maybe you caught what Glynda had a few weeks ago. Ozpin took care of her, remember. He said she had a high fever and a bad cough."

And a cough bursts out of Barty's throat. "This is starting to hurt." he closes his his eyes, burrowing into the bed and resting his head on Peter's lap.

"Get some sleep, Barty. And then get better."

 

  


	2. Concussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My take on what happened after the breach in volume 2 and why Oobleck took so long to join the battle. He and Zwei were not protected by Weiss's ice shield.

Barty saw team RWBY group together. Weiss used her dust to encase them all in ice. Barty nodded proudly before grabbing Zwei and shielding the little dog with his body. Then everything went black.

 

The next thing Barty knew he was lying in the rubble of the train wreck. His head was throbbing and he felt woozy. He could see his students fighting hard. They were strong, but they were outnumbered by far to many. Overhead, there came the sounds of an airship. Team JNPR entered the playing field, followed shortly by team CFVY. And _Peter_.

Peter.

His Peter.

Barty's best friend. There was no one on earth Barty was closer to than Peter. At his arrival, Barty knew that everything was going to be okay. He pulled himself to his feet, standing straight and tall. Peter was next to him. And they fought together, like they always did.

At the end of the battle, the adrenaline began to wear of and he began to feel the wound again. His vision was slightly blurry and he was so tired. He followed Peter into the airship and slid onto the seat. The students were clearly tired too, but they were full of excitement and pride. Neither Glynda nor Peter seemed fazed at all. 

When they return to Beacon, Peter followed Barty up to his rooms. Peter was worried about Barty; the normally hyper-active man was still and pale. His eyes were fuzzy and unfocused. Peter knew he was incapacitated for the first part of the battle. And suddenly Barty pitched forward. Peter caught him and set him down on the threadbare sofa.

"P'ter?" Barty moaned. "M' head hurts."

"Alright, Barty. When then train crashed, did you hit your head?" Peter asked.

"Maybe, don't remember." Barty groaned. His hand went to the back of his head.

"Barty, I need you to sit up for me." Peter said softy.

Barty moaned again. "Please, Barty." Peter hoisted him up by his shoulders. Barty gasped and leant forward before vomiting onto the floor. Peter rubbed his back before looking at the back of his head. There was definately a bruise developing, but no blood had been drawn.

"You're lucky. I think its only a mild concussion. A few days' rest and you'll be whizzing round Beacon in no time. Your aura will kick in and you'll even be able to avoid the doctors. I know how much you hate them." Peter joked.

Barty whimpered and lent his head on Peter's shoulder. Peter sighed. "Let's get you to bed." He helped Barty into his bedroom, into his pyjamas and tucked him in bed.

Peter was turning the light of and preparing to leave when Barty called out to him. "Peter?  _Stay_?" 

Peter smiled slightly and sat down next to Barty. Barty fell asleep in Peter's arms, and Peter fell asleep with Barty in his arms.


	3. Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oobleck goes looking for Port in the middle of the night with a sky- high fever.

Barty awoke to blurriness. He couldn't think properly and it was so _hot_. Suffocatingly hot. He lay in bed for a unknown period of time. His head was fuzzy and was throbbing slightly. One thought that managed to get through was the realisation that he was ill. The automatic follow up to that was Peter. He needed to go to Peter.

However, as hot as it was under the covers, it was freezing outside it. Barty staggered up and grabbed the blanket at the end of the bed and draped it around himself. Then he wobbled to the door, gabbing hold of anything in reach to keep himself upright. The hallway swam in his vision. He barely managed the 3 minute walk from his rooms to Peter's. When he got there, he was panting and swaeting like he'd just come out of battle.

He caught himself on Peter's door and held himself there, just to get his breath back. He felt the world tilt again. In desperation he started pounding on the door as hard as he could- which wasn't very hard. Suddenly the door opened. Without anything to lean on, he immediately fell forward.

 

Peter awoke to noise. There was a thumping sound coming fro his door. Huffing, he dragged himself out of bed and opened the door. Instantly, his arms were full of... Barty? Peter's brain snapped awake. Barty! The green haired man groaned into Peter's shoulder. "Peter?" he croaked, "I think I'm ill."  Peter shook his head fondly, feeling the heat radiating from him.

Peter dragged Barty into his room, kicking the door shut. With some difficulty, given Barty was a full 2 feet taller than him and tangled in a blanket, Peter lead him into his room and set him down on he bed. "Wait here." Peter commanded.

Barty moaned something; probably sarcastic, but it was lost on Peter. The Grimm Studies professor took a thermometer from the bathroom and returned to Barty's side. "Here." he poked the plastic at Barty's mouth. The history teacher smiled groggily and took it. Peter busied himself with tucking Barty in under the covers. Barty groaned and tried to roll out. "To hot."

Peter sighed. He took the covers off again. Barty started shivering. 

"Now you're cold." Peter pointed out. "You need the covers."

Barty made a vague flapping motion with his hand at the blanket pooling around his knees. With one hand Peter pulled the blanket around Barty's shoulders, and with the other, he plucked the thermometer from Barty's mouth. "This is a decent fever."

Barty shrugged. He blinked and Peter was gone. He sat up and looked around. Peter was emerging from the bathroom. He had a glass of water in one hand and a little box in the other. Peter sat down next to him and handed him two pills out of the box. "Drink this." Peter lifted the glass to Barty's lips and allowed him to sip it. By the time he finished, Barty was ready to just sleep.

"Go to sleep, Barty." Peter murmured.

Barty just snuggled into Peter's side. Peter chuckled and settled down to sleep. "We'll give you more medicine tomorrow, keep your fever down."

Barty groaned. " _Peter_ , _sleep_."

With Barty's warmth seeping into him, Peter went to sleep, content.


	4. Glasses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barty wears glasses because his senses are hypersensitive, especially his eyes. Peter gets protective when they go missing.

Peter entered the apartment he shared with Barty. A whimper was what greeted him as he came in. "Barty?"

Another whimper.

"Barty, are you alright?"

Barty was sat on the floor by the sofa, with his head tucked into his knees.He had his hands clasped his eyes. He looked pitiful.

"Peter? I can't find my glasses."

Peter sat down next to him and wrapped him in an embrace. "What's wrong?"

"I can't find my glasses." Barty repeated, deperation creeping into his tone.

Peter was terrified by Barty's behaviour. There was no way he was _this_ upset over missing glasses. He hadn't even looked at Peter. "It's alright. We'll find them." Peter soothed.

Barty groaned. "No! You don't understand; I _need_ them.They're reflective. They block out the light." he paused as he leant into Peter. "I'm hypersensitive, Peter. Light's to bright for me. So, I wear the glasses."

Peter's hand ran itself through Barty's messy hair. "And now you can't find them." He then took off his big silk tie. Gently, he wrapped it around Barty's eyes. Tying it, he asked, "Is that better?"

Barty nodded. "Much. Thank you."

"Where did you last see them?"

Barty groaned again, this time in frustration. "I put them on my desk, in the most obvious, visible place possible, left the classroom for 5 minutes and when I got back, they were gone. I spent half an hour looking for them. I only came back here because I couldn't see anymore."

A quick kiss on his cheek from Peter silenced Barty's nervous babble. "Stay here and rest: I'll go and look for your glasses."

Peter pulled them both up, deposited Barty in bed and put an audiobook on before begining his hunt.

Peter scoured Barty's classroom from top to bottom. It was getting late and he still hadn't found the glasses. Eventually he had to give up and go to bed. Barty had already fallen asleep when he got back. Peter sighed, undoing the blindfold and snuggling up with his love.   

 

Barty's cry woke Peter up the next morning. The green haired man was hunched over, clutching his eyes. Peter quickly retied the blindfold.

"I'm sorry, Barty. I couldn't find your glasses."

Barty groaned, but snuggled into Peter again. "I can't teach like this."

Peter gave him a little more cuddling than normal. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"Do you want to go down for breakfast?" Peter asked softly.

Barty shook his head. "I can't see." his voice went quiet. "I don't want to face them like this." Shame coloured the man's voice. Peter winced at it.

"Its ok. You don't have to. I'll bring something up for you." Peter offered.

Barty just nodded in defeat.

 

Several of the teachers looked up in surprise when Peter came in alone. He snagged a chair next to Glynda and slid into it. "Where's Barty?" she asked.

"He's not feeling well. He won't be able to teach today."

There were many murmurings of sympathy and well wishes. Peter accepted them with neutral grace. After breakfast, he followed Ozpin into his office.

"This is about Barty?" The headmaster stated.

Peter nodded. "His glasses have gone missing and he can't see without them."

Ozpin sighed. "Those glasses are very hard to make, to fit Barty's needs. Getting another pair would be very difficult."

A scowl crossed Peter's features. "But it's not like Barty to simply _lose_ something so important."

Ozpin raised an eyebrow. "You think a student took them as a joke?"

Peter nodded. "The students don't know how important they are."

 

Little did Peter know how right he was. It was his last class before lunch, where he could escape back to Barty.

He was giving the class a lecture on finding the weaknesses of different Grimm, when he noticed team CRDL laughing at something. He caught snippets of the conversation.

"He's not even shown up today- what an idiot!"

"You'd think he couldn't live without these things."

That was when Peter caught a glimpse of something in Cardin Winchester's hand. _Barty's glasses._ Something in Peter snapped. "Look for beaks in the armor of- _you stupid boy_!"

"Uh, professor?" Weiss spoke up.

But, Peter was striding towards Cardin with murder in his eyes. " _How dare you make a mockery of a person's conditions, that you know NOTHING of! How dare you take something that isn't yours without thinking about the CONSEQUENCES! How dare you take enjoyment from someone else's PAIN! YOU DON'T DESERVE THIS OPPORTUNITY  WHEN YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT A HUNTSMAN IS! KIND! BRAVE! HONOURABLE! YOU HAVE SHOW NONE OF THIS! GIVE ME THOSE GLASSES GET OUT OF MY CLASSROOM AND DON'T COME BACK!"_

Cardin gulped, blood freezing in his veins. With a shaking hand, he pushed the glasses across the desk. As soon as Peter took hold of them, Cardin was out of the door, his team trailing after him.

"Class dismissed."

The hard edge of his voice sent all the students out of the room a full 21 minutes early. Peter clutched the glasses, breathing deeply to let go of all the rage. When he thought he was calm enough, he made his way back to Barty.

 

When he got there, Barty was sat in bed, his whole body vibrating. A plate of his breakfast, half eaten, sat on the  bedside table. A small table by the window had been knocked over.

"Barty, how're you feeling?

Barty froze and tensed at the sound of Peter's voice. "Peter? I'm  _bored_. I need something to do."

Peter sat down and pulled Barty into a cuddle. "You haven't eaten much."

Barty nuzzled his shoulder. "Appetite always goes down when I'm like this. Besides, it's hard to eat without seeing."

Peter smiled into Barty's hair and slowly undid the blindfold. Barty groaned as the light stung his eyes. Peter gently slotted the glasses into their proper place.

Barty gasped as he felt them slide on. Turning to Peter, he slowly opened his eyes. He blinked several times before squinting at Peter's face.

"You found them."

Peter kissed Barty's nose. "Cardin Winchester took them. I daresay he's going to suffer greatly for a very long time."

Barty chuckled. "My hero." he murmured adoringly, going in for a full kiss.


	5. Stomach Flu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter coaches Barty through the horrors of a stomach bug.

Barty and Peter sit in their living room, sharing a plate of tea and biscuits. Or at least, Peter is. Barty just sips his tea slowly, looking pale and worn. Peter lets his clear discomfort slide for several minutes, but it doesn’t improve.

”Barty, are you feeling alright?” He asked.

Barty looks up at him sluggishly. “I’m fine, Peter.”

Peter gives him a long hard look. 

“Really, I’m fine.”

Peter places his hand on Barty's forehead. "You feel clammy." he pulls Barty up and takes him into their bedroom. "Get some sleep, Barty." Barty smiles wearily and allows himself to be dragged. Peter scrutinises him as he changes slowly into his pyjamas. Barty just smiles wanly at him as he slides under the covers. Peter snuggles up against him, wrapping his arms around his coffee loving lover.

 

Its the middle of the night when Peter wakes up. His arms are empty and he can't feel Barty. He hears hurried footsteps padding away. The bluriness in his eyes clears and he just catches Barty rushing into the bathroom. Peter gets up and follows him. When he hears retching, he races the rest of the way.

Barty's curled around the toilet, gasping for breath in the middle of violent heaves. Peter immediately gets down next to him; holding his forehead and rubbing his back. Barty moans as he rests his head on the seat.

"Don't feel good." he whimpers.

Peter kisses the back of his neck. "I know you don't."

Barty leans back over the toilet and retches again. Peter hums in sympathy. Eventually Barty throws up everything in his stomach and he's reduced to dry heaving.

 Peter pulls him away from the toilet and fills a cup with water. Barty oves his head away from it but Peter persists. He coaxs Barty into drinking at least a quarter of it. When that was accomplished, Barty slumped against Peter. 

"M' tired." he mumbled.

Peter ran a hand over Barty's forehead. "I know you are." He pulled Barty to his feet and nearly drags him back to bed. "Come on Barty. You have to help a little." 

Barty struggles to get his feet under him and his legs working. He flops gratefully back into bed. Peter sets a bucket down by the side of the bed and cuddles up to Barty.

"Thank you." Barty slurs as sleep takes him.

"Feel better soon." Peter murmurs.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I like torturing my characters. Either through tragic backstories or unpleasant events. Glynda Goodwitch was first, she was unlucky. I wrote her TWICE! Watch out Bartholomew Oobleck! You're next! I'm so mean. I've been watching volume 2 lately and reading LOADS of fanfiction too.


End file.
